Page 102 of A Shot of Pretty Poison

I can tell Mali is about to get involved, because she puts her glass down on the high-top table beside her. But just as he grabs my hand and tries to pull me into him, Hayes comes out of nowhere and decks him straight across the face.

The guy goes stumbling into another table, spilling their drinks everywhere and falling to the floor. Hayes shakes out his hand while Mali’s eyes widen.

“Well, good to see his caveman tendencies are as strong as ever.”

I sigh, looking at Hayes who doesn’t seem at all apologetic about the fact that he just punched a customer in his own bar. Cam, who saw the whole thing, rushes over and leaves Riley to tend the bar by herself.

“I amsosorry, sir,” he tells the drunk. “Let me help you up.”

When the guy gets back on his feet, Cam makes sure all of his clothes are in place. But the way the man is glaring at Hayes tells both Cam and me that damage control is sorely needed.

“Handle him while I keep us out of a lawsuit,” my brother grumbles to me.

I nod and grab Hayes’s hand, pulling him toward the back. Thankfully, he doesn’t put up a fight and as soon as we get into the back room, I shut the door.

“What the hell was that about?”

He rolls his eyes. “Don’t play dumb. He was all fucking over you!”

“Yes, but I had it handled!” I say with a little more power than necessary. “H, you can’t punch someone just because they tried to get with me.”

“The fuck I can’t,” he growls.

Without taking his eyes off me, he corners me between the shelf and the wall as he turns the lock on the door.

“I willalwaysprotect what’s mine.”

My heart is racing, and I muster all the confidence I can manage as I stare up at him. “Well, if you’re only going to act like I’m yours when someone encroaches on your territory, then don’t. I can take care of myself.”

His eyes darken as he pulls me against him. “Don’t pretend you don’t love it when I get possessive over you.”

I stay completely still, not saying a word as he slides my dress up and loops his thumbs through my panties, pulling them down just enough to give him access. With one hand, he undoes his belt while the other starts teasing his clit. And his pants are barely pulled down before he’s stretching me open with his cock.

“Oh, fuck,” I moan, but he quickly shushes me, covering my mouth with his hand.

I’m still making noise—I can’t help it when he’s fucking me like this with all those people out right on the other side of the door—but they all come out muffled against his hand. The only thing in the room is his primal need to claim what’s his, and there isn’t a single part of me that’s not okay with it.

Not when it feels this good.

And definitely not when he’s looking at me like I’m the only thing in his life he isn’t willing to lose.

WHEN I WAS YOUNGER,my mom always used the saying “you can’t have your cake and eat it, too.” I remember I hated it, because as long as you got a big enough cake, yeah you fucking could. But as I sit in front of my computer and log onto a work meeting to find my boss and my boss’s boss staring back at me, I realize she was right.

There are some situations where you just can’t have it all, no matter how much I wish I could.

“Laiken,” my boss greets me. “How are you?”

I smile politely. “I’m good. And you?”

“Good, good,” he says. “Listen, we wanted to talk about when we can expect you back in the studio. We understand you’ve had some personal issues going on, and working remotely works well for the interim, but we really need you to be in here and hands on.”

A lump builds in my throat and I swallow it down. “I totally understand that. I just don’t know that I have a date to give you. I thought it was going well, working through video call. With how technology is today, I’m able to do all the same things remotely as I would do in the studio. Has someone complained about my job performance?”

He shakes his head. “No, not at all. It’s more of a company image thing. We want all of our clients to feel valued and prioritized, and if our best song writer isn’t in house, it takes away from that.”

“That makes sense,” I reply.

“I knew you’d understand,” he says. “So, if you could talk to your family and try to tie up any loose ends you need to take care of, I’d ideally like to have you back in here by early next month at the latest.”

---